The Little Things
by W0zzat
Summary: SPOILER WARNING: Do not read if not past The Vault. Haurchefant gave his life to protect the Warrior of Light. But what if the attack he took for her was designed to do more than just kill?


Hello! This is my first time doing this (at least publicly). I saw online that they will be introducing a Haurchefant minion and portrait in 3.1, and someone said that they wanted to see Haurchefant's soul inhabit the minion. It started my mind going and now I have an idea in my head that won't let me rest, so here goes nothing. Input of the constructive nature will be appreciated. I'm also ok with grammar nazis, but no flames please. Cut the noob some slack! XD Ok, lets do this! All characters, locations, etc belong to square enix.

The Little Things

By W0zzat

Chapter 1

( One week after the vault)

The sun had long since set when Y'shtola arrived at her destination. Saint Reymanaud Cathedral stood before her, proud, and majestic, as if defying the frigid cold and falling snow drifting down around it. The epicenter of Ishgard's faith, a faith that lshgard touted as its pillar of strength. But due to the tales the warrior of light and Alphinaud had told her of their travels, she however, was now privy to its true form, a fabrication created to cover up the most grievous of sins committed by none other than Ishgards vaulted last king and his legendary knights one thousand years ago. Y'shtola was uncertain as to why Count Edmont had requested to meet her here of all places, but judging by tone of the missive he had sent her whatever the issue was had clearly set the man on edge. Why he would also explicitly request that she keep any knowledge of this meeting strictly to herself left her further vexed.

As she stepped out of the cold dark night and into the warm, and reverent atmosphere of the Cathedral she was met by one of the manservants of house Fortempts. After a few quick words of greeting, he ushered her through a door to the right of the main chapel. They made there way down a long hall passing small dormitory like rooms where most of the priesthood lay resting for the night until they came to another smaller door which lead to a long spiraling staircase that plunged downward into unknown depths. As they made there dissent Y'shtola's keen Miqo'te nose quickly picked up on the change in the air from fresh to tainted with the pungent smell of death. When they finally arrived at the chamber at the bottom of the stairs it was clear to her that she was in Ishgard's morgue. The room was cold and arid perfect for preparing bodies for their final rest. The space was devoid of the pulsing radiating presence of life save two. At the back of the room stood the Count De Fortempts himself deep in discussion with who she assumed to be one of the priests. The stress the Count bore radiated through his frantic tone. His life force rolling and springing off of the surface of his being like flares off the sun. As she and the manservant approached the Count and priest a look of sympathy began to spread across Y'shtola's face, as if the poor man hadn't been through enough this past week.

Upon reaching the count and the priest Y'shtola gently cleared her throat to gain their attention then gave a slight courteous bow. "Good evening Count Fortempts. I made it here as quickly as I could, though I am confused as to why we would be meeting in such a place and why you are reluctant to allow my fellow scions to aide you in this mysterious dilemma." There was a pause, a soft pained sigh, then the count replied wearily " Y'shtola, praise the twelve you are here. The nature of this situation is one that I believe only one of your unique talents may be able to handle. Also, I fear dragging your fellow Scions into this would only cause them more grief, and distract them from their current endeavors. As to the place and timing of this meeting... It is best you see for yourself. Please, follow me." With that the count ushered Y'shtola through another small door and into a tiny room.

Once inside the small space the source of the Counts distress became apparent. At the back of the room resting on a table lay a body bearing a unique atherical scar. To Y'shtola's knowledge there was only one man who had received a scar like that. One once described to her by a morose Warrior of Light while deep in her cups, attempting to drown her sorrows out of existence if only for a little while. A horrid tear that twinkled like the breathtaking lights that danced in the Coerthan night sky. A feeling of dread crept its way up her spine, her mouth went dry. Nothing that horrid should ever be that beautiful. It was clear, this was Haurchefan

It was at that point Count Edmont again spoke. " It has been a week and his body shows no sign of decay, and that infernal wound continues to burn. He lays there cold, unmoving, not breathing, but if he is truly dead then why does his body not surrender to deaths natural processes! I cannot, will not surrender him to the grave if there is even the slightest chance that by some strange grace of Halone's mercy he is still somehow alive!" Y'shtola cautiously approached the body. As she came closer she began to feel something. From afar the body had seemed how any deceased body should be, devoid of life force. However upon closer inspection she could see small streams of aether still making there way through his form in slow lazy currents save at the location of the scar where everything seemed to halt, like water meeting a dam. Y'shtola's brow beetled in concentration, what could this possibly mean? She began to pace deep in thought. Maybe it would be best to consider the circumstances in which this tragedy had occurred. Clearly this was an attack meant not only to kill but to effect the flow of aether, but why? As if killing someone wasn't enough why would they want to impede the flow of the victims life force back to the lifestream? Awareness hit her like a bolt out of the blue and she slammed to a halt. Of course! The attack was never meant for Haurchefant, but for the warrior of light! Under normal circumstances simply killing someone would be enough, but not for one with Hydaelyn's blessing. Allowing her lifeforce to return to the planet would only result in it making its way to the aetheryte it was attuned to only to form a new body and continue to be a hinderance to the Asicans and Archbishops' plans.

"I take it you discovered something?" The Count's hope tinged voice cut into her thoughts. She schooled her face and turned to him. " Yes count, I do believe I have an idea as to what has occurred. The attack that caused this scaring was not meant for a normal man but for one with Hydaelyn's blessing. It was not meant simply to kill, but to also trap the afflicted's very soul in its body thus keeping it from being able return to the planet, to form a new body." She could she the flow of aether the Count's body pale and come to a brief halt. "By all that is sacred! You mean to say, that my son is to remain trapped in his corpse for eternity! Never able to join us in Halone's halls!" A clatter and the panicked voices of the priest and manservant altered her to the fact that the Count had fallen to his knees in grief. Decorum be damned. Y'shtola quickly made her way to the count placing a hand on his shoulder to console him. "Not necessarily, judging by the amount of life force remaining in his body a decent portion of it was able to escape. In a normal person when the body dies the life force will immediately begin the return to the planet; however, those with Hydaelyn's blessing can control the flow of their lifeforce and when it leaves the body. I have seen it. Upon death the warrior of light will often remain within the fallen body in case of a chance at being revived. The Archbishop and the Ascians must have been counting on that giving them the extra time the spell would need to take effect." She could feel the Counts trembling as he weakly replied " But if a part of him still remains within his body, how much, and what parts? And where would the rest of him have gone to?" "Of that I am not sure." She replied voice fraught with concern for both the heartbroken count, and the displaced Haurchefant. It pained her to not have anything definitively positive to say to this distraught parent. If Haurchefant's body still contained a portion of his lifeforce it may be possible to seek aide from the elementals to call the rest back to his body. But if it was called back with the scar still in place, would that only result in trapping his whole soul within his deceased form? Also, if they did manage to find a way to remove the scarring the rest of his soul would most likely rejoin what had managed to escape and return to the lifestream. She couldn't stand to watch the Count's heart break any further. She squared her jaw in determination. " Count Edmont, though the chances of returning your son to you may be slim, there is at least a chance that we may be able to find a way to return the rest of his soul to the lifestream so he may rest in peace, if only I can find a way to remove that scarring. I will consult with my teacher, between the two of us we may find a way to undo at least some of this." She felt the count lightly touch her shoulder "For that I thank you. In this situation all I can really hope for is that my son can be restored to wholeness so that he may rest. Anything beyond that... I will leave up to the Goddess to decide." He allowed his manservant to help him rise, paused, gave a long shuttering breath, then returned to his normal nobel stature. " I thank you for your aide this evening and in the future. Please, come stay at house Fortemps for the night, you can start your journey in the morn."

She thanked the Count and accepted his offer as she knew that the Warrior and Alphinaud where currently away on a mission, and Tataru often got a room at the tavern so as not to miss a chance of collecting precious information, so her chances of running into anyone of them were minimal. She would find a way to solve this and end not only the count's pain but that of her friends as well. They were not to know about this. She did not want to think about what the warrior of light's response to this would be. The Warrior was a stubborn one and held onto to her mask of strength and calm like a muscle to a rock in a squall. But to one who perceived not through eyes but through aether, it was very clear that without the man she loved the warrior's composure was currently held together by fine thread. One that gave way whenever she thought no one was looking. At dawn Y'shtola was gone, with none of her comrades the wiser.

Ok here's chapter one. This will take a few chapters to set up. If you like it please let me know, it will encourage me to keep going.


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